The Milk Of Human Kindness
by Jemmiah
Summary: ObiWan volunteers to do some babysitting...


**The Milk of Human Kindness**

**By Jemmiah**

"I still think you deserve some time off." Obi-Wan remarked pleasantly, trying to guess at what might make Jemmiah happy. He didn't know why but for some reason she had been extremely edgy in his company of late, especially whenever he went anywhere near little Han: some protective hormonal urge no doubt brought on by the onset of motherhood. A perpetually curious baby, Obi-Wan thought the child had inherited far too much of his mother's potential for trouble making, especially if that gummy Corellian grin was anything to judge by.

"Nice idea." Jemmy drawled. "When am I going to find the time? It's a full time occupation, this motherhood lark. You don't just put a baby aside like it's a doll and pick it up the next time you want to play. I'll not get any 'time off' as you put it until he turns eighteen."

Obi-Wan smiled. "You and Rela help each other out."

"We've started the unofficial midnight wide-awake club." Agreed Jemmiah, rubbing blearily at the corners of her eyes. "Membership comes with a free badge declaring 'sleep is for the feeble minded', and a speeder pennant with 'welcome to exhaustville' on it."

She was tired, any fool could see that, even although she tried to make light of it and cover her fatigue with a joke. The baby had recently succumbed to an ear infection, the resultant screaming keeping Jemmiah up all day and night. Now that An-Paj had taken a look at him he seemed much improved although inclined to grizzle at night, even when Snordle was placed in his crib.

"Then why not get some sleep?" Obi-Wan offered. "I can watch over him whilst you rest. And Simeon can take care of young Simon whilst Rela gets an equally well deserved shot at relaxing."

Jemmiah paused. It was a highly tempting offer, she had to admit. And Rela would most certainly jump at the chance to have a night's rest. Much as they worried and fretted over their offspring, to turn down such a golden opportunity would indeed be madness. Besides, Obi-Wan and Simeon would be just next door if they needed any advice or help. And if she was entirely honest there was a small part of her that secretly relished the idea of Obi-Wan struggling to look after a baby.

"I'm not sure…" She began, still reluctant to turn her son over to the care of the two Jedi. "Have you ever looked after a baby before? It's a lot of work…"

"Precisely." Agreed Obi-Wan. "And that is why you deserve some time to yourself. You're still Jemmiah, you know. You exist as a person in your own right. You are not just Han's mother."

"It doesn't feel like it." Sighed Jemmy, staring wistfully down at her son. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever make a good enough parent. No matter what she did or how many books she read by so-called experts Jemmiah felt certain there was something lacking in her attempts to be a mother. But Han seemed to like her - a fact that always caused her considerable surprise - and babies were supposed to have great instinct, so perhaps she should try listening to her son more. It was difficult therefore to explain to Obi-Wan that handing Han over to him, even for a few hours, made her feel like she was somehow betraying her child or that she had failed him in some way.

Obi-Wan treated her to a brief hug.

"What was that for?" She asked suspiciously.

"That," he replied, "is for someone who needs time to recharge herself. Take as much or as little time as you want. And if you want reassured then we are only next door from you." He nodded through towards Jemmiah's bedroom. "Go on." He issued her with his most charming smile. "Get some rest."

Jemmy took a deep breath.

"Okay." She agreed. "You'll have to feed him, though. And change him when he needs it. And play with him…"

"It is all under control." Obi-Wan grinned confidently at her. "Now go to bed before I mind-trick you to sleep!"

Jemmiah gave a final uncertain little glance at her son, then stepped forward a few paces and placed a gentle kiss against Obi-Wan's mercifully smooth and beardless cheek.

"Thank you for thinking of me." She replied, before walking towards her room and her much longed for bed, closing the door softly behind her.

Obi-Wan, the feeling of the kiss still fresh against his skin, turned to face the squirming baby Han. The child's eyes were alive with devilment and energy: something told Obi-Wan that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew. Sometimes it paid to be forward thinking, as he was forever telling Anakin. Forearmed was forewarned and all that kind of thing. With this lesson ringing inside his head Obi-Wan picked up Snordle (otherwise known as Han's anti-boredom kit) from the nearby shelf and placed inside the crib within easy reach of the child's grasping hands.

"Simeon." Obi-Wan whispered into his com-link. "Do you think you can come over to Jemmiah's apartment?" He broke off long enough to watch Han stretching his tiny fingers out towards the yellow duck, bringing it up to his open mouth with eager anticipation. "Why am I whispering? Because I am babysitting, that's why." His forehead creased into an indignant frown. "Why should that be funny? I thought Jemmiah could do with some rest and I volunteered to take over in the child minding department. Is that so wrong? What do you mean, I don't know _anything_ about children!" His voice began to rise slightly. "I was a child once! And I've looked after crèche children before…not through choice, admittedly, and all older than babies, but still…"

Han gleefully tossed Snordle out of the side of his cot…and then when the duck did not fly back to him began to shriek loudly.

"Shush!" Obi-Wan looked anxiously over his shoulder to where Jemmiah's bedroom was. "I don't want you disturbing your mother! She might think I'm incompetent." He returned the duck to Han's cot, and as predicted the crying instantly stopped. "No, I did not say impotent! I said I was _incompetent_! Yes, well thank you very much, Simeon!" Huffed Obi-Wan. "If you are such an expert then why don't you come over here and keep us company? Give Rela the night off…bring Simon with you…"

The screaming suddenly started all over again. When Obi-Wan turned round he could see that Han had once more thrown the duck over the side of his cot and was screeching to be reunited with his favourite toy. With a sigh Obi-Wan bent down and put the duck once more back in the child's bed.

"I am not murdering him!" Scolded Obi-Wan, hissing down the comlink at Simeon. "I'm trying to entertain him. Okay, I'm not succeeding terribly well…look, are you coming over or are you not? What do you mean, _'not'?_ You're supposed to say yes! What about Rela? Don't you think she'd like some time off? Oh…" Obi-Wan swallowed guiltily. "You're going to the theatre. But what about Simon? An-Paj's wives are going to take care of him? Well, what about _me?"_ Obi-Wan asked desperately. "I should have thought of that before I made stupid promises? What was that?" He pressed his hand against his ear as if it might concentrate his thoughts more. "Why am I repeating everything you are saying? Perhaps because I can't believe you are saying them!"

Behind him Han began to howl. Obi-Wan didn't have to turn round to know what was wrong.

"He's deliberately throwing his toys out his cot so that he has an excuse to scream!" Obi-Wan grumbled. "What am I supposed to do now?"

There was a momentary pause, then Obi-Wan answered; "Surrendering to the force wasn't exactly what I had in mind!"

And with that he cut off his connection with Simeon, feeling desperate, inadequate and completely out of his depth.

"Never fear, young Han." He put on what he suspected was an extremely false looking smile. "Uncle Obi-Wan is here…"

Han's mouth became an open, black cavern of dread and then began to shriek once again.

* * *

Jemmiah, it seemed, must have been truly exhausted because for all her son's wailing she never once marched through to demand what was going on, or to relieve Obi-Wan of his charge. He could sense her, lying on her bed, so deep in sleep that a herd of stampeding Banthas would not have awakened her. It was this thought accompanied by his own substantial fondness for her that persuaded the knight to continue with his vigil to watch over her sithling of a son who had at last decided to calm down.

For how long Obi-Wan couldn't guess at.

Now after a few meagre hours he was beginning to get a true insight as to precisely why Jemmy was so tired. Her son was a bundle of energy: one that would almost certainly prove lethal the moment he learned to run around a room unaided. And poor Snordle would no doubt feel Han's wrath when the boy began to teeth fully…

Feeding time was proving interesting. He was old enough for mush, but not proper solid food. Everything was pureed or saturated with milk to make it turn into sludge. It all looked so unappetising! Han seemed to think so too, judging by the lack of success that Obi-Wan had been having in trying to get him to eat the stuff. There were horrid, wheat-type rusks which on the face of it appeared utterly inedible. There was a bottle of milk that, frankly, Obi-Wan didn't think looked right somehow. Still, Jemmiah seemed to know what she was doing and in this instance he supposed _he_ was the learner. Now he had an insight into how difficult parenthood could be. And he'd only been doing it for a few hours!

How well would he have coped had Emma survived, he wondered sadly, trying to picture how the child might have turned out. Would he have been of more use to Jemmiah as the child's father than he was as a surrogate 'uncle' as in this instance? Or would Emma have been taken by the Jedi and hidden amidst the many infants in the temple crèche, her destiny decided by the force?

It was pointless to think upon it. Emma had not been given that chance, and neither had he. Jemmiah at least had been provided with the opportunity to prove herself as a mother, and although he dared not say so to her face he was beginning to appreciate precisely how successful she was…

"There's not much on the face of it that would induce me to eat this." Obi-Wan admitted as Han refused to take a mouthful from the proffered spoon. "It hardly looks enticing, does it? Although maybe it tastes better than it looks?" Obi-Wan sniffed at the sludge, expecting it to smell as horrid as it looked, but to his surprise it had an almost porridge-type odour. "Let's see, shall we?" And with that he ventured a small mouthful from the tip of the spoon.

It wasn't that bad. In fact it wasn't bad at all!

"You do not know what you are missing." Obi-Wan lectured the astonished looking Han Suul as he finished off the entire contents of the spoon. "Look at how Uncle Obi-Wan does it, and then maybe you can have a try, hmm?"

There was a mildly sweet taste to the substance that helped to make it slightly more appealing than it otherwise might be. Obi-Wan put his spoon back in the bowl and fished out some more of the glutinous substance, holding it out so that Han could see.

"This is what you are supposed to do." Obi-Wan, with deliberately exaggerated movements, made a great show of putting the spoon in his mouth. "Did you see that? Actually, I'm getting terribly hungry…do you know what else your mother has got to eat in this place? Shall we find out?"

Obi-Wan stalked over to the Refrigeration Unit in the corner of the kitchen and began to root around inside. Mostly baby food, by the look of it…did Jemmiah not eat anything at all? There had to be something in there that didn't look like it had been liquidised and then passed through the stomach of a small dog…

"This ought to do, I suppose." He said gruffly, his hand going to a jar of pureed fruit. "I'm sorry if I'm stealing your lunch but I'm afraid that it's hard work being a baby sitter."

Certainly a lot more difficult than it was being a baby, Obi-Wan reflected ironically as Han decided at long last to take a well overdue nap…

* * *

Jemmiah finally stirred, feeling more refreshed than she had in a long while. Everyone kept telling her that when Han finally settled into a routine he would be no trouble at all, but they simply didn't appreciate the fact that her son was not like other children and had no intention whatsoever of sticking to rules and regulations. When he wanted to wake up, he would wake up. When he wanted to sleep, he would sleep. Tough if it didn't fit in with anyone else's plans. In some ways Jemmy admired him for being his own person. Perhaps there was too much of herself in him.

Recognising herself in her son wasn't the problem. Watching to see who he took his other characteristics from was causing her considerable anxiety. It surprised her that Obi-Wan hadn't picked up on it whenever he got too near Han. Maybe that was the real reason she had allowed him to look after the boy this time: to stop him from becoming suspicious or asking too many questions.

She slid herself off the bed, stretching her arms as she stood. All appeared quiet as far as she could tell. Time to see if Han had got the better of his babysitter or whether Obi-Wan had managed a small victory of his own…

Opening the door, Jemmy poked her head around the corner. She could see Han, happily sleeping: a contented baby smile upon his podgy cheeks. Obi-Wan sat not far away with a spoon in one hand and an empty bowl in the other.

"I can't believe you got him to eat that!" Jemmiah hastened towards the pair of them, sounding almost crestfallen. "I can never get him to eat more than a few mouthfuls at a time! How is it that everyone manages to do the impossible except me!" Her hands slapped down against her side in a gesture of unhappiness. "Can't I get anything right?"

Obi-Wan took pity on her, although not quite able to meet her eye.

"I shouldn't worry about it." He mumbled, feeling distinctly embarrassed. "I couldn't get him to eat a single mouthful."

She frowned at him. "But the bowl is empty!"

A long telltale pause filled the air, giving Jemmiah all the information she needed to make an accurate guess as to what had happened.

"_You_ ate it?" She grimaced. "You sat there and _ate_ my son's rusks?"

Obi-Wan offered a slight shrug. "They're quite nice when you get into them. Especially the chocolatey ones with the little flakes of…" He gulped. "Han didn't seem to want it and it seemed a pity to see it go to waste…"

Jemmiah stared at him for several moments.

"I can't _believe_ you ate my son's rusks." She shook her head. "I know you'll eat just about anything but this is ridiculous! Maybe I should get you a little bib with your initials on it, huh? And a personalised high chair? Shoozer, I know the temple food is bad but still…eating _rusks_?"

"They were very enjoyable." Obi-Wan tried and failed miserably to maintain his dignity. "And the packaging says they are full of much needed nutrition!"

"Yeah, if you're a baby!" Nodded Jemmy, concerned. "Is there anything else I can get you? A nice teething ring, perhaps? A cool, fresh bottle of milk?"

Obi-Wan dabbed at the corner of his mouth with the corner of his robe.

"That reminds me, the milk in the fridge is off." He nodded towards the kitchen area, which had recently born the brunt of his foraging raids. "You might want to get some more. The stuff that I took was disgusting."

Jemmy followed his gaze to the kitchen, then to the empty bottle by the cot…then back once more to Obi-Wan.

"The bottle that was standing on the shelf in the refrigeration unit?" She half-smiled. "The one with the rubber teat on it?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan nodded.

"The one that was for Han?" The smile continued to grow.

"Yes." This time Obi-Wan became suspicious. "Why?"

"The one sitting down there on the floor by the cot? That's what you poured all over your rusks?" She grinned unashamedly.

"Yes!" The knight shuffled slightly on his knees.

Jemmy turned slightly away, trying to stifle her laughter. Obi-Wan had been the source of many unintentional gaffs over the years but this was right there at the top of them as far as she was concerned. This was one that Rela and she would surely laugh over for many, many years to come. Her tiredness forgotten in the midst of such hilarity, Jemmiah looked directly back at her friend with what could only be described as an expression comprised of pure unadulterated wickedness.

"That wasn't Nerf's milk, Ben." She folded her arms. "That was for the baby. It was _mine_…" She made a vague sort of gesture at breast level that more than gave Obi-Wan the correct idea. "You've never seen those little pump thingies, have you? No, I suppose being a Jedi you wouldn't really have a lot of time for that kind of thing. I can show you how it works if you like. You just attach the pump to your…"

"No!" Obi-Wan stood up hurriedly. "Er, thank you…I've got to go now; time I was getting back to the temple. I think from now on I'll remain incompetent just like Simeon said." The Jedi began to back away as if worried that Jemmiah might suddenly jump on him and force him to watch an impromptu demonstration. "I'll see you again…soon…maybe…if I ever live down the humiliation…and get the taste of rusks out of my mouth…"

And with that Obi-Wan fled from the apartment with his robe billowing behind him, and a face as red as a Tatooine sunset.

* * *

So much for being helpful, Obi-Wan thought as he fled the scene of his latest ritual humiliation. So much for being of use to Jemmiah. All he had done was clean out her home of every last rusk and caused a potentially devastating rift between them. Although it had to be said that Jemmiah hadn't seemed too unhappy with what had happened if the gales of laughter that had followed him down the stairwell had been anything to judge by. In fact he'd never seen her so happy in months…

He had to admit that he'd liked the time he'd spent with Han. Perhaps if he could conquer his feeling of embarrassment he might eventually be allowed back in to see him again. Provided he could put up with the inevitable milk jokes that would surely follow him for the rest of his days.

His comlink chirped, and he stopped on the street to answer, throwing himself wearily onto a bench in the main square.

"Hey, Scrubby!" Rela's voice hailed him. "I hear the babysitting went really well."

Obi-Wan's face went from red to purple.

"News travels fast." He grimaced to nobody in particular. "Especially when Jemmiah's involved."

"Can't stop for long; just thought I'd give you a call before Frizzy and I take in the theatre." The voice nearly swept Obi-Wan away with its bubbling enthusiasm. "Well done, by the way. Seriously, I've not heard Jemmy so happy since she came back to Coruscant. I don't know what you could have said to her but it's really done the trick. She was laughing so much she could hardly get the words out." Rela's voice became momentarily serious. "Thank you."

The young knight blinked. "Well, it was no problem. I'm pleased that she's feeling more relaxed. If I've had something to do with that then I'm glad."

"Well," She sighed, "I'd better go now Scrubby. Nice talking to you."

"You too, Rel. I'd better get back to Anakin." Obi-Wan agreed.

There was a slight pause, then Rela replied devilishly:

"Yes, I suppose he'll be looking for his feed. Is it rusks for supper?"

Obi-Wan buried his head in his hands.

"Or," Rela grinned, "do you still breast-feed him?"


End file.
